In [Reincarnation of the Sword Saint], The Rien Empire, which served as the setting, had Prince Victor as its third prince. He also had many siblings.
‘Two older brothers, three older sisters. One younger sister, right?’
Shiron, pulling out a notebook from his pocket, recalled the rough details.
‘Though born of the main wife, the child was born last to the emperor. Hence, the child was less favored…’
What he knew was from the original story; he only had this much information confirmed about the current situation, which was from 10 years prior to the game’s setting.
‘He’s likely around my age or older.’
However, dealing with this naive prince was sufficiently feasible with just the given information. After facing the mind-reading angel, dealing with an unproven brat felt relatively easy.
‘To react to a mere provocative letter so immediately. He’s impulsive and not cautious. He should’ve done more reconnaissance. A brat is a brat, after all.’
It was unlikely that Victor possessed any significant abilities.
No matter what, he was just the third prince. The current emperor would be more focused on his older two sons, meaning Victor wouldn’t have skilled subordinates.‘If he was the first or the second, he might’ve formed his own faction and built power through internal conflicts. But he doesn’t have his own forces or back support, so he can only rely on a mere salaried person like Berta.’
Shiron jotted down his assessment of Victor.
[Naive and emotional.]
A rather harsh judgment. Shiron put his notebook away and cracked his knuckles. His gloomy face and the sound reminded him of a third-rate villain.
“My Lord, are we going to discipline that arrogant kid?”
On their way to where the prince was, Encia, dressed in a suit rather than a maid outfit, suddenly appeared and whispered. She handed Shiron a wet towel she had prepared earlier, giggling.
Lucia, uninterested in the unexpected guest, went to freshen up. Only the two demon maids were by Shiron’s side.
“So, what should we do?”
“I don’t like that kid.”
When Shiron replied with a seemingly displeased expression, Ophilia, who was also in a suit, responded,
“I’m irritated that he dared to touch someone you’ve marked, and I’m extremely angry that he’s brought along the knight order.”
“He must have felt threatened.”
“…Hearing that makes me even angrier. If he knew his place, he would have come quietly. Instead, he just increased the headcount…”
As Ophilia grumbled, Shiron patted her back.
“Calm down. If we openly show hostility, we’ll be the ones looking bad.”
“…Yes.”
Ophilia managed to compose her disgruntled expression.
After a few more minutes of walking, they reached a vibrant garden. There was a group of knights in armor.
‘He brought quite a lot with him.’
Shiron smirked, counting the number of knights. At least thirty knights were visible, each with a longsword at their side.
And…
In front of them was a young boy leisurely holding a teacup.
Wavy golden hair, soft eyes, and a mischievous grin. Leaning back in his chair, his demeanor seemed to say, ‘I’ve brought my forces. Let’s see your move.’ He appeared quite arrogant.
Upon seeing Victor, Shiron thought seriously.
‘Hmm, an annoying brat. Makes me want to hit him.’
But Shiron didn’t openly express his displeasure. It would seem childish to lash out against such an arrogant youngster.
“Tsk.”
He merely spat on the ground.
Then, ignoring Victor, Shiron placed his hand on the shoulder of Siriel, who was sitting opposite him.
“Ah, big brother!”
Siriel, turning her head towards the hand, found her cheek poked by Shiron’s finger.
First, with a cheeky gesture, Shiron greeted Siriel.
“What’s the special occasion to dress up so nicely? You didn’t have to. Did you dress up for someone to see?”
“Of course, for you, big brother.”
Siriel, bouncing up from her seat, showed off her dress with a radiant smile.
“How do I look?”
She remembered advice from Eldrina. Her mother had said when someone complimented a change in attire, one should actively show it off.
Shiron poked her cheek a few times instead of replying. At that, Siriel rubbed her cheek and laughed softly. It seemed she took it as a playful affirmation.
Shiron, noticing her cousin’s cute action, led her into the mansion before taking his seat.
Then, he quickly scanned the faces in front of him. Each one looked deeply displeased.
Their dissatisfaction was understandable. To invite a guest and not even offer a welcoming gesture was rude, especially when the guest was the prince of the empire.
“Hello, I’m Shiron Prient.”
However, Shiron greeted them calmly, regardless of their mood.
“…Nice to meet you.”
Victor, with a surprised expression, greeted Shiron. The obliviousness they both showed momentarily took him aback, but Victor soon gathered himself and smiled.
“You seem close with your younger sibling.”
Victor alternated his gaze between Shiron and the departing Siriel. Shiron looked annoyed, as if an unnecessary topic had been brought up.
“It’s good to hear we appear close.”
“It’s not just a casual observation. I had a brief conversation with her, and the more I talked to her, the more I admired the depth of your bond.”
“Oh, really?”
“Of course. I have many siblings. While my older brothers treat me well, they aren’t close to each other. My sisters have already married into other provinces, so I envy you guys…”
“Hey.”
Shiron interrupted Victor.
“You didn’t bring the troops behind you just to make such trivial talk, did you?”
Shiron stared at the people lined up behind Victor.
Knights in armor, holding weapons, and magicians holding staffs.
He had indeed mentioned in the letter he sent to Berta that if the prince felt threatened, he could bring troops.
He had expected that he would bring a few guards someday, but he was surprised at how many and how quickly he brought them. This amount was definitely beyond the capacity of what a Third Prince was capable of.
“As expected, your temperament is unique.”
Instead of getting offended by being cut off, Victor laughed.
“But I did exactly as per your letter. You said if I felt threatened, I could bring troops, right? So, I did. How is it?”
“It seems like you just rounded up whoever was available. It’s quite half-hearted.”
“What did you say?!”
One of the people behind Victor bristled at Shiron’s provocative words.
But Shiron continued, disregarding the minor outburst.
“And what’s with the informal tone right from our first meeting? Were you not taught basic courtesy because you’re too young?”
“…Informal tone? What do you mean?”
Victor looked genuinely puzzled by Shiron’s comment.
“You expect me, who holds a noble title, to use honorifics with a commoner?”
“You know well.”
Shiron smirked. Even though Victor looked confused, the people behind him who couldn’t control their expressions were numerous.
Shiron ignored their glares. Facing them directly and exhausting his patience felt bothersome.
He assessed Victor in a quick glance.
“I heard you wanted to befriend me.”
“…Of course I do.”
Victor nodded. He wanted to recruit Shiron Prient, but it seemed that saying so would completely ruin their relationship.
“Why would someone who claims to want friendship investigate me first?”
Shiron chuckled at Victor’s awkward agreement and checked the surroundings. Even if they weren’t directly affiliated with Victor, the continued insults they were enduring must be grating.
‘It’s about time someone steps up.’
“Young master, please stop being rude.”
Right on cue, a man in armor stepped forward a bit. Shiron barely suppressed a smile.
“Who are you to dare interrupt a conversation with royalty?”
“…I am Igor, the deputy of the Royal Guard Commander.”
The deputy of the Royal Guard Commander – a loyalist to [Commander Zard] who supported the 1st prince.
“I couldn’t ignore the young master’s disrespectful behavior. It goes against the duty of an imperial servant. Please forgive the rudeness.”
Though he was apologizing, Igor’s posture remained rigid.
He wasn’t acting as if he was asking for forgiveness at all. Like one threatening a child, his demeanor made something certain in Shiron’s heart.
‘The one who lent troops to Victor. The 1st Prince.’
The ones behind Victor weren’t just the few who sent a letter. Shiron was certain there was someone behind Victor.
‘Then, who were those following Berta?’
Shiron contemplated this and moved on to the next action.
“How rude, well said.”
Bang!
Shiron slammed the table.
“So, wasn’t it rude of them to follow me?”
The metal table was dented like tin foil.
Everyone around them reacted to this threatening behavior. Of course, the maids watching from behind were startled.
‘Is there another? Someone who critiques my actions.’
Shiron was certain the moment he saw Igor. It wasn’t Igor who followed Berta. Igor didn’t match the type of person to tail someone. The equipment he wore was far from stealthy. Taking the initiative to resolve the situation also didn’t fit. Absolutely not for tailing. Yes, to think about it, the second was better. One who willingly becomes a shield, diverting attention. And one who could observe from a distance. If the 1st Prince had sent his confidants here, the 2nd Prince wouldn’t just stand by. How long do they intend to make him wait?
Confusion and anger both appeared on Igor’s face.
Grit-
Then…
Even if one didn’t pay close attention, one could hear the sound of grinding teeth. But it wasn’t a sound Igor made.
“…What did you just say? Following…”
Igor asked this while trying to maintain composure. The word ‘following’ surprised him for a moment. Acting impulsively here wasn’t good, and Igor regretted his rashness.
Shiron pressed Igor as if cornering him.
“Still pretending not to know? Do you know who our elder is?”
“Stop!”
Then, a man dressed in black jumped out from the crowd.
“That’s enough.”
Brushing his slicked-back hair, the man adjusted his glasses and stared at Shiron.
“I’ve heard rumors that you’re a fool. I wanted to see for myself if they were true, and indeed, you’re more disappointing than I anticipated. My lord, rise. This riff-raff isn’t worth your time.”
“Affiliation?”
“…Are the eyes of the mighty hero family’s son mere pinholes?”
The man emphasized the blue tie he was wearing. It was a deep blue, symbolizing the royal family.
“A royal court magician.”
“Yes.”
Shiron spoke calmly, all traces of his previous jesting gone.
“Encia. If those bastards draw their swords, kill them.”
Finishing his words, Shiron slapped the bespectacled man’s cheek.
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